


Think You're Tough?

by Fuseaction



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuseaction/pseuds/Fuseaction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severin loses a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Think You're Tough?

Severin remembers Patrick well. Remembers the fuckery they'd get up to together. The time they robbed a liquor store. The time they'd hijacked those cars. They'd been inseparable since they were 9 years old, all the way up until the day that Patrick died.

Age 19. They're out. It's past midnight, the streets damp from a light rain. They're smoking cigarettes they stolen from the shop nearby. With a smile, Patrick puts a hand into his jacket, showing Sev the gun that he'd bought in a back alley the other day. They bask in their own glory, waving it about, shouting out into the night.

"We can fuckin' take whatever we want! No one's gonna stop us once we stick this in their face," he says with glee. Severin laughs at him.

"You wanker, you wouldn't know how to fucking use it anyway," Sev jibes. Patrick sneers at Sev.

"Fuckin' would," Pat retorts. Severin and Patrick look over at the sound of footsteps.

A group of 3 men happen to be walking past them. Patrick grins at Sev before walking cockily up to the men, pulling the gun, shouting at them to empty their pockets.

Turns out the three of them are packing as well.

Sev sees Patrick put his hands up and back away slowly

"Whoa, now. Didn't mean nothing by it," Pat says, the fear making his voice tremble. Sev's body tenses, ready to run from where he's leaning against the wall.

"Little fucking punk! Think you're tough? Teach you to fuck around," one of them shouts. They aim at Patrick, the boy's gun falling to the ground from his shaking hands.

They shoot Pat. Sev bolts at the sound.

They chase Severin. Corner him.

Kick the shit out of him and walk away.

Sev limps back to check on Pat. Knows he's gone, done for, snuffed. He puts the gun in his pocket, knowing how stupid it is to do so.

He finds his way back home, bloodied, wrist broken, jaw fractured, knocking on the back door.

Seb opens it.

"Sev, the fuck happened?" His brother guides him inside and cleans him up.

"Pat's dead," he whispers as Sebastian helps him lay down.

The week after that they move.

Every year on the anniversary of Patrick's death, Severin steals a pack of cigarettes from a shop and holds the gun in his hand. The safety is never on. The gun is always loaded.


End file.
